


Day 26: Fantasy / Dirty Secret

by mrs_d



Series: Do What I Wantober 2020 [26]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, See notes for Trigger Warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:34:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27239635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrs_d/pseuds/mrs_d
Summary: “I wish I could still believe in divine justice,” Chloe said.“Sitting right here, darling,” said Lucifer, in a tone that was probably supposed to be joking, but it fell several feet short.
Relationships: Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar
Series: Do What I Wantober 2020 [26]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1947496
Comments: 4
Kudos: 58





	Day 26: Fantasy / Dirty Secret

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: passing references to a disturbing crime in which a doctor murders his patients, who are vulnerable women (trauma survivors).

“Have I mentioned lately how glad I am that you can’t do that to me?” Chloe asked as she walked swiftly away from the little yellow house that a monster called home — for now. Uniformed officers were cramming him into the back of a squad car, but Chloe couldn’t bear to watch. Just looking at him made her want to run her fist through a wall. Or throw up. Or throw up after running her fist through a wall. 

“You can’t possibly be suggesting that your true desires involve such violence,” Lucifer said, keeping pace with her. 

“Right now they do,” Chloe muttered, and Lucifer grunted in wordless agreement.

They arrived at her car quicker than she expected; her feet had been carrying her on auto-pilot, desperate to be anywhere that wasn’t here. But when she got in the driver’s seat and put her key in the ignition, she couldn’t turn it. Instead, she listened to the rain that was starting to fall in an uneven rhythm against the roof. She watched a stream of water run down the windshield, vaguely aware, as she did, that Lucifer was watching her. She sighed.

“I wish I could still believe in divine justice,” she said.

“Sitting right here, darling,” said Lucifer, in a tone that was probably supposed to be joking, but it fell several feet short. 

“No, I know,” Chloe replied. “I just mean— you told me Hell’s about guilt, right?”

“I did,” Lucifer said slowly. “But—” 

“So people like him, he might die tomorrow and go to Heaven,” Chloe said, tasting bitterness on her tongue. “What kind of justice is that?”

Lucifer shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Detective—”

“How is that right?” she demanded without looking at him. “You heard what he said. He is incapable — biologically incapable of feeling guilt, of being remorseful for what he did. And the women he killed, his patients, they trusted him. They were trauma survivors, Lucifer. Women who’d been abused, and raped, and God knows what else.” 

“I know,” Lucifer said softly. 

“They were vulnerable, and he took advantage,” Chloe went on. She wasn’t sure she could stop, now that she’d started. “And the icing on the cake here is that they probably felt more guilt than most people, because that’s what abuse does to you. They probably thought everything was their fault. Blamed themselves. Maybe even when he— when they—”

Her voice faltered. She choked on a sob. She didn’t know when, exactly, she’d started crying, or when Lucifer’s hand had moved to cover hers on the steering wheel. She hung her head, a tear splashing down onto her jeans. 

“It just kills me, to think they might be in Hell, and he’s not,” she admitted in a whisper. “It’s not right.”

“I know,” Lucifer said again.

“I wish—” Chloe began, but then she shook her head. She couldn’t say that. Not to him. 

“What?” he asked, his thumb skating over the back of her hand in a steady, reassuring motion. “Tell me.”

Chloe focused on that feeling, of his skin against hers, and thought about how vulnerable it was to tell someone else what you desired. Fantasies, dirty secrets, quiet wishes that festered in the darkest corners of your heart, it was terrifying to share them in the light of day. But that was Lucifer’s normal — day in, day out, sometimes even without him having to ask, human beings told him what they wanted, no matter how innocent or heinous. That gave him power, as they’d just demonstrated with the monster in the little yellow house, but he had no such power over her. 

He couldn’t compel her to say it. She had to choose, and there was always power in choice. 

“I wish I didn’t know,” she said finally. “I wish, sometimes, that I’d never found out about you. Or even...” Every word hurt, but she forced them out, one after another. “Sometimes, I think about what it would be like if I never met you. If I could say something like,  _ I hope he rots in hell, _ and my partner could just agree with me, plain and simple. If my partner wouldn’t know any better than I did whether or not that bastard actually would.”

The silence, broken only by the steady patter of raindrops overhead, stretched between them when Chloe stopped speaking. She couldn’t look at him, couldn’t bear to see if her words had hurt him. She wanted to reassure him, to say that she didn’t mean it, to tell him how happy she was, but to gush now would feel disingenuous, like she was overcompensating. 

“I don’t know any better than you, though,” Lucifer said after a long moment. “There’s really only one person whose fate I know for sure, and that’s because I put him there myself.”

Chloe frowned, wondering who he was talking about. 

“But other than that,” he continued before she could ask. “I do agree with you. I hope that bastard rots. And if I could promise it, darling...”

“I know,” Chloe said quietly. 

“I wish it was a perfect system,” Lucifer added. “But it’s not.”

Above them, the rain fell harder on the roof, like maybe his Father knew it too. 


End file.
